


I Would Sing You To Sleep

by inpurifyingflame



Series: In This Place [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluffy, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Shire AU, abdication, not explicit until later, repost, spans over several years, ten short stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2890052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inpurifyingflame/pseuds/inpurifyingflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin’s just had enough and decides to retire to somewhere full of peace and quiet. He’s seen the glory restored to Erebor and has named Fili as heir with his sister, youngest nephew and Balin acting as advisors. With a small gathering of Dwarves following their abdicated King, Thorin returns to the Shire where it all started. Ten short stories about Thorin (and his company) settling themselves into the hobbit culture. Spans over several decades. This is a REPOST, officially off hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Sing You To Sleep

**A/N:** This series will consist of an utterly domestic King under the Mountain and his thief retiring in the Shire. So this is after everything, everybody lives/nobody dies. Bilbo’s not too keen on dwarves entering his life once again but finds he can’t let them go. Title from ‘The Light Behind Your Eyes – My Chemical Romance’ and a little bit of the lyrics as well as Misty Mountains Cold of which I own neither. I’m also going by the gaming maps as they are the most closely detailed.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that I’m writing, nor do I wish to profit from it. It’s all just a bit of fun from a sleepy Australian girl. All mistakes are mine.

**I Would Sing You To Sleep**

All that could be heard on the road was the steady pounding of four sets of boots, Dwarvish made, and the harsh panting issuing from hungry mouths, giving away their swift pace.

The darkness had well and truly covered the sky by the time Thorin and his considerably smaller company reached the outskirts of Bywater. Thorin let his mask down to grin at the sign. Only another hour, perhaps less, and they’d arrive at their destination.

“Ouch,” A voice said from behind and Thorin spun around, a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Shh,” Another voice ordered and Thorin glared.

“Keep your voices down,” He commanded as the three dwarves caught up to his fast pace, “We don’t need every Halfling in the Shire to know we’re here.”

“I got stuck by a tree,” Bofur complained, tugging on a braid with one hand and rubbing his thigh with the other.

“Are you lost again, your Majesty?” Dwalin growled sarcastically, “If I recall you lost your way... how many times Nori?”

“Two by my memory,” Nori smirked and Thorin huffed at Dwalin’s chuckling.

“Make your jokes but we are coming from a different direction than last we were here,” Thorin said matter-of-factly.

“Obviously,” Nori said and the dwarves continued their walk, “And obviously you can’t read a map, Your Majesty.”

“I’ve asked you to call me Thorin.”

“Apologies, Your Thorin,” Nori responded, cackling.

Thorin let out a growl at the back of his throat and trudged on, crossing through town, over The Water and into the outskirts Hobbiton. Cheers could be heard from the lantern lit tavern behind them but Thorin only had eyes for the top of a well remembered hill where he knew a particular green door sat.

The dwarves moved to walk the many paths that led up the hill, losing their way only once when they came to a dead end at an odd red door. They finally came upon the familiar sight to find only the front candle burning out.

“It’s later than I imagined,” Thorin said, more to himself than his company, “Perhaps it best to return on the dawn.”

“Go on Thorin,” Dwalin urged and sighed when he realised Thorin wasn’t going to do anything, “I did not walk, ride and fraternise with Elves for a safe passage for over three weeks to stand before a hobbit hole.”

And with that Dwalin raised a heavy fist and knocked soundly on the door three times. He moved back behind Thorin as a light came through the circular windows.

“Who on Earth could be calling at this hour?” Bilbo Baggins’ voice echoed around his front hall as he tied his dressing gown shut, “Nearly past midnight at that!”

Thorin seemed to shake off his stupor at the familiar voice and grinned and silently gestured for the others to do the same as Bilbo pulled open his door. The hobbit stopped dead and took in the sight of four hungry dwarves, one of whom he presumed dead.

And he promptly shut the door in their faces.

The other dwarves started mumbling and Thorin moved right up to the door to hear anything that might be happening on the other side. He lightly tapped on the door and leapt back as Bilbo pulled it open once more.

“What...” he growled, “Could possess you to come calling at this time of night. Standing there all high and mighty and ... _alive_?”

This was posed as a question that Thorin felt best be explained indoors, “May we intrude on your comfortable abode for a meal and conversation?”

“Of course you can,” Bilbo said and despite his tone saying otherwise he pulled the door open, “I’m not one to keep out hungry guests no matter the hour apparently! I have manners and propriety, something I see you sorely lack! I presume you remember the location of the kitchen?”

“Oh yes,” Dwalin answered for Thorin as he hung his cloak on the hook by the door, not bothered by Bilbo’s rant about visiting etiquette.

“Your cloak and weapons,” Bofur whispered loudly as he passed by Thorin.

Thorin stripped off his belongings hastily and followed his company into the kitchen where Bilbo had apparently set up a light supper. A pot of water had just started bubbling on the stove top and Nori tended to it as it began to bubble over.

“We won’t leave any for you if you keep gawking,” Bofur said cheerily and Thorin noted that Bilbo had all but disappeared.

“Master Baggins has given us free reign of the kitchen as long as we promised to clean and restock tomorrow,” Nori explained as he watched Dwalin shovel in a mixture of meat, cheese and sauces with mild admiration.

Thorin ate his share of the food before requesting his company to wash up without him as he set off to find the hobbit. He took in the warm surroundings of wood and rugs. Candles burnt low as Thorin followed their trail to a lit room. A desk sat facing a window and Bilbo stood gazing out of the circular glass into the dark.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin greeted and Bilbo jumped, a piece of paper in his hands falling to the floor.

“You startled me,” Bilbo gasped and scooped down to pick up his paper which was subsequently stuffed in an envelope.

“You did not want to sup?”

“I ... uh... no,” Bilbo gave up trying to form a sentence as he sealed the envelope, pressing down to ensure it was closed, “It’s late.”

“What are you doing past midnight?”

“I was finishing a letter I started earlier, since I’m up,” Bilbo said, inspecting the seal on the envelope and placing it on his desk in the upright position, “If you’ve got something to say then by all means speak your mind.”

“Should we not converse somewhere more comfortable?” Thorin questioned and Bilbo hurried out through the east hall to the parlour where a fire was burning low but warm.

Bilbo settled himself in a chair and Thorin in the one opposite, “Speak. Why are you here?”

“I could lie and say we are passing through to Ered Luin but you know from maps and books that there are quicker and easier routes. No I set our destination for the Shire for a purpose of retiring.”

“What about the mountain?” Bilbo questioned, not bothering to listen properly to Thorin’s last word.

“Erebor has been passed to my heir.”

“Fili?”

“Correct.”

“You abdicated your throne? After all the effort to reclaim that mountain? After the battle? After the ...wall?”

“I thought we ended our friendship on good terms. Are you still inclined to think I did not mean my apology? Do my words of betrayal still sit with you?”

“We ended any friendship on your death,” Bilbo said, ignoring his question, “Or so I thought at that time. Thorin... you were dead.”

The last words slipped out breathily and Thorin explained, “No, I merely slipped into black for a number of days but remained breathing all the same. It was quite a shock to wake as it was for the people bustling about to see their king rise from near-death.”

Bilbo was quiet for a moment, organising his thoughts, “I don’t understand why you would choose to leave your throne.”

“I... I had had enough of giving orders, of paperwork, of the responsibility. I am contactable, close enough to Ered Luin to check in and hear reports and see off more caravans.”

“But why would you leave your kingdom? You worked hard to reclaim the mountain, _all_ of you. And to just throw it away...”

“I did not make the decision to leave Erebor lightly.”

“Then why did you do it?” Bilbo threw his hands up, “You know I’m going to make tea and when I return you better have a good answer.”

And so Thorin did, speaking with a gentleness that Bilbo couldn’t help but accept, “I achieved what I had set out to do. With your aid as well as the aid of others, myself and the company defeated the dragon, won the battle and oversaw the hundreds of dwarven caravans return to a refurbished mountain. I am merely exhausted Master Baggins and wish nothing but peace and solitude in my twilight years.”

Thorin’s eyes didn’t leave Bilbo’s figure after this monologue and he watched as the hobbit slumped lower into a chair by the fire, careful not to spill his tea.

“But why the Shire? Why come to me?”

“I recall the love of the rolling hills, the description of the horizon on a clear morning that you spoke of. I remember how you fondly recalled the activity of your kin and the love of dirt under your nails on a bright summer’s day. You, Mister Baggins, brought me west.”

Bilbo let out a surprise gasp and returned to staring into the flames. Then Thorin let his voice continue, pulled from the deepest point in his chest, to let out a familiar mountain song.

“On silver necklaces they strung  
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung  
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire  
They meshed the light of moon and sun.”

Bilbo’s eyes drooped and Thorin changed his song to one he knew his nephews favoured from their time spent in neighbouring kingdoms. He kept his voice steady as he sang over two particular lines.

“One day I’ll lose this fight, as we fade in the dark,

Just remember you will always burn as bright.”

Careful not to disturb a dozing Bilbo, Thorin quickly grasped the falling cup of tea that was dangerously close to spilling across an ancient rug. Bilbo’s eyelids flickered before his breathing evened out.

Unconsciously Bilbo snuggled deeper into the armchair and Thorin let his gaze wander over the hobbit’s creamy skin peeking from under his dressing gown. Bilbo’s feet were bare as always, much cleaner than he recalled from their journey to Erebor. He inwardly chuckled at the anatomy of the feet, noting they looked mismatched to Bilbo’s ankles in size and possessed hair that sat in tufts on top.

Ever so slightly, Thorin slipped his arms evenly under Bilbo’s body and padded down the hall as quietly as he could in his heavy boots. He made a mental note to take off his boots and merely keep his woven woolly socks as protection. Thorin nudged open a door that had been closed over and found the room equipped with a bed and what could only be Bilbo’s personal effects.

Thorin placed Bilbo on top of the blankets before going around the other side and pulling down the quilt. Bilbo sniffed in his sleep and Thorin froze, wondering if he had been caught. After a few moments of silence, Thorin pulled the quilt gently out from under Bilbo’s body and let it fall on top of the hobbit’s body.

He exited the room without another word. Thorin made his way back to the sitting room and into his chair. He leaned his head back and came into contact with a large quilted blanket which wrapped around his body snugly enough. His eyes fell shut before his mind could protest anything else.

 

* * *

 

“We could always travel to Ered Luin,” Bofur suggested under his breath to avoid waking his King.

“He wanted peace and quiet, somewhere without responsibility,” Dwalin hissed, “And dwarves hounding him for meetings does not fit in that description.”

“Hush,” Nori murmured as Thorin stirred in the armchair.

As he moved around to gain his bearings Thorin felt the slide of cloth slide off his skin and he watched a patchwork blanket fall to the floor. Only embers and ash remained in the fireplace.

“Good morning Your Majesty,” Nori swept in to fold up the blanket that had fallen, “I see you slept well.”

Thorin blinked, feeling rather lazy in the comfortable chair, “What is the time?”

“Before dawn,” Bofur supplied, “Early start and all Your Majesty.”

“Bofur, stop the titles.”

“You’ll always be my king...” Bofur said and as an afterthought added, “Thorin.”

Despite his tiredness Thorin felt oddly touched, “Nevertheless, we’ve overstayed our welcome. We’d best find accommodation until we can pick up work.”

“I don’t know what work you expect to find around here,” Dwalin piped up as he wrapped some food to fill his pockets... and his stomach later on.

“We’ve done it before, we’ll make do,” Nori added as he strapped down his pack, “From the maps Michel Delving is the capital, it’s where we’ll most likely be taken on. Sleeping arrangements I’m not too sure about.”

“There’s the inn that the burglar mentioned a while back,” Dwalin mentioned.

“Aye he sang about the Green Dragon. Would that have rooms?” Bofur asked.

“We’ll see,” Thorin grumbled, picking out a slice of cooked toast with a slathering of butter spread across it, “I’ll eat as we go. I want to reach the capital before nightfall and have a few decent breaks.”

They set out as the sun started to peek through the windows. The dwarves screwed up their eyes against the harsh morning light and worked their way down the hill and back over the Water in a south easterly direction. Thorin set a slower pace than they had on their trek through Middle Earth to fully absorb the landscape that he hoped would become familiar in the coming decades.

At midday Bofur called for lunch just before they hit Waymeet in the Delving Fields. Nori sat perched perusing his maps while Dwalin and Bofur ate as if they hadn’t seen a good meal in weeks.

“...another half a day at most,” Bofur said thoughtfully as he sat behind Nori and estimated the distance to travel.

Thorin nodded and stared off into the distance they had just walked when a waving figure caught his attention.

“Bilbo,” He murmured, “It seems we have a follower.”

“Wait!” Bilbo shouted, looking quite out of place in day-old clothes and knotted curls, “Don’t move!”

“We’re not going anywhere Master Baggins.”

Bilbo finally caught up to them and doubled over with hands clutching at his aching sides before standing upright again.

“I thought...” Bilbo trailed off to try and catch his breath, “I thought you left again. To go back to Erebor.”

Thorin let his lips turn up in a small smile, “We shall be remaining here for quite a time Master Baggins.”

“Bilbo.”

Thorin’s smile grew, “Bilbo.”

“Don’t leave, please,” Bilbo said in a rush, “There is not a point in leaving after travelling so far. So long.”

Bilbo finished with a lame wave of his hand before Thorin spoke, “My burglar, rest assured we will not leave the Shire, or Eriador at that. We set out on the dawn to seek other accommodation.”

“As to not impose on you of course,” Bofur added and Bilbo gave the four dwarves a hard, searching look.

Finally he nodded, “I have a guest room, a back room and a spare room, all that need a cleaning out mind you, if you wish to ... impose as you put it. Two of you will have to share unfortunately but I can find another bed. Until you wish to leave.”

“You would not mind?” Thorin murmured so only Bilbo could hear his apprehension.

“Not in the slightest,” Bilbo said and their gazes caught before they both shyly looked away, “Gather your things and put your money away Mister Dwalin. There will be no need until you visit the market and even then I’m not sure it would be accepted in such...”

Dwalin stuffed his coins into his purse with a grumpy expression as Bilbo continued to talk to himself, leading the way back to Hobbiton.

“I’d like a decent explanation too,” Bilbo said as they walked along the road.

“About what?” Thorin asked and Bilbo snorted.

“Why I didn’t receive a letter, one single word as to your health... or that of the company in fact!”

“I’ll give you an explanation once we reach your home,” Thorin agreed, “And I’ll accept anything you have to say back. You’ve accepted our presence remarkably well, mine especially.”

“Good. I’m still not particularly happy that I never had news though and I will interrogate each of you until I am satisfied.”

With that Bilbo set his pace a little faster and left Thorin, Dwalin, Nori and Bofur to quicken their speed to keep up with their new, for all intents and purposes, landlord.


End file.
